


what you've learned

by rosssaliie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Basically PWP, F/F, Please be nice, this is my first time writing smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosssaliie/pseuds/rosssaliie
Summary: sansa has her doubts about her intimate experience. margaery helps her feel better.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 61





	what you've learned

Mid-morning sunlight streamed through the windows in Sansa’s bedchambers. The stone floors warmed underneath it, and the sheer curtains blew gently in the breeze. It had only been two days since Sansa heard that she would be marrying Lord Tyrion. She hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest since, and thus had risen early to spend some time on her balcony. She was in a simple purple dress, with sleeves that billowed out at her elbows and golden clasps on the front. She was sitting at the small, round table, needlepoint in her lap. The image of a wolf was emerging on the fabric. 

A small knock on her door drew her attention.

“Come in,” she called, setting her work on the table and standing to greet her guest. 

Margaery floated in, wearing a beautiful blue summer dress. Most of her hair was pulled back in a fancy braid, the kind Sansa wished she could do without invoking the inevitable wrath of Cersei. “There you are,” she chimed, her voice sounding like an angel. She closed the door behind her, meeting Sansa in the middle of the room. “I was looking for you. I’m having my handmaidens set up tea in the garden. Would you like to join me?” She took the redhead’s hands affectionately. 

Sansa frowned. “I’m not really in the mood. Certainly you’ve heard I’m meant to marry Lord Tyrion?” She hung her head in disappointment. “I just… wanted to spend some time alone, to think.” She pulled away from Margaery, going back onto the balcony. 

“Then why don’t we have tea here? Just the two of us.” She followed Sansa outside, standing right behind her. “We can talk about all your worries. Maybe I could even help ease your mind.” She placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder, massaging it slightly. Before getting a response, she craned her head back towards the door. “Mira!” 

Mira, one of Margaery’s handmaidens, stepped through the door. “Yes, milady?” she squeaked. 

“Have some lemon cakes and tea brought up here. Sansa and I will take our tea out here.” She waved the girl away, and turned back to Sansa at the sound of the closing door. She guided Sansa to the chair she had been sitting in, and took her seat across the tiny table. “Tell me, dear. What’s so bad about Lord Tyrion?” She leaned back coolly.

Sansa looked over at her friend. She folded her hands in her lap and straightened her back, remembering how hard she worked to get her perfect posture. “I’m not exactly sure.” Her eyes flitted around, anxiously worrying that, somehow, Cersei would be able to listen to their conversation. 

Margaery moved her chair closer to Sansa. “It’s just us, my dear. You don’t need to worry.” She tucked a strand of red hair behind the girl's ear. “I know Cersei has tormented you. But I’ll be Queen soon, and when I am, I will make sure she never harms you again.” Her face was serious, eyebrows pulled up in a sincere expression. “You can tell me all of your fears.”

The Stark girl smiled sweetly, and relaxed her body. “Sometimes I feel that you’re the only one I can trust.” She looked out at the trees below, a few of them with colorful blossoms. “What… what happens on the night of a wedding?” She gave Margaery an innocently confused look. 

A smile appeared on Margaery’s face. “Sweet girl, is that what you’re worried about? Consummating your marriage?” She paused as the bedroom door opened, and Mira came in with the food and tea. “Mira,” she took the metal tray from her handmaiden before it could be placed down. “Please make sure no one comes in to interrupt us. We are currently in a private meeting.” She raised her eyebrows at Mira.

The handmaid gave her a knowing look, nodded once, and scurried out the door. It shut with a loud clunk. 

Margaery refocused on Sansa. “Look, you really shouldn’t worry about your wedding night.” She poured two cups of tea, handing one to her counterpart and sipping her own. “Lord Tyrion has enough experience as a lover to make up for anything you don’t know. And I’m sure he wouldn’t force you into anything you hadn’t already done. He’s the best Lannister you could’ve been given.” She delicately picked up a lemon cake and took a perfect bite. 

Sansa watched her, throat tight and dry. “What if… I haven’t  _ done _ anything?” Sansa flushed a deep pink, from her cheeks running down to her neck. 

The brunette nearly choked on her food. “Oh my goodness!” She worked on clearing her throat and processing Sansa’s words. “Ahem,” she coughed. “Sansa, look. You truly have nothing to worry about.” She put on the most innocent face she could manage. “I only made love with Renly once, and only because he was so insistent on an heir.” The lie came easy to her. “It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you’re worried about. It just… takes a moment to get used to.” 

She nodded, her mind easing. “Are you nervous? About… having to be with Joffrey?” The thought had terrified her when she had been betrothed to the King. She was grateful to be out of his mind, but she hated the idea of Margaery taking her place. She didn’t want him to hurt her. 

Margaery scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms out and leaning against the banister.

She took a deep breath, hoping Sansa wouldn’t notice her scared expression. “Of course not. I’m sure I can handle him. How awful could he be?” She plastered a smile on and spun back towards her friend. “Are you feeling any better?” 

Sansa stared at her with wonder. She couldn’t imagine being as confident as Margaery. The way she carried herself, her intricately woven hair, and even the clothes she wore were all so… attractive to Sansa. She wanted what Margaery had. Her eyes scanned the woman's bare arms, admiring how the light reflected off her skin. “A little,” she finally murmured. 

Margaery narrowed her eyes at the Stark girl. “Sansa. I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer honestly, alright?” When her friend nodded, she crossed her arms. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” Her smile turned sly, as if she already knew the answer. 

“Oh…” Sansa looked down at her hands. “Only once, with Joffrey. But it was after I first came here, and it only lasted a second.” Her words spilled out faster, not wanting Margaery to take her answer the wrong way. 

The brunette took Sansa’s hands, pulling her up from her chair. “You, my dear, deserve a kiss from someone better than him.” She held the redhead’s face in her hands, bringing their lips together. 

It surprised Sansa, but not in a way that she disliked. Margaery’s lips were soft, much more so than her previous fiance’s. She leaned into it, her hands finding their own way to Lady Tyrell’s waist. There was something in Sansa’s stomach, something she had not felt before, that wanted to push forward. She relaxed into Margaery’s hold, letting her move her hands down around Sansa’s shoulders. A gasp rumbled up from Sansa’s throat, and she pulled back. “Wait,” she whispered, as Margaery was just about to ask for more. “You’re engaged to the King. I can’t…” She turned out of the girl's grasp, moving inside her room. 

Margaery followed her in. “I have a duty to him, yes. But,” she stopped directly behind Sansa, pulling some hair away from her neck, “you’re my friend. And I have a duty to you, as well.” She placed a light kiss at the base of Sansa’s throat. “What kind of friend would I be… if I didn’t help you?” She reached around to the front of the redhead’s dress, deftly undoing the clasps that held it together. She pulled it back, grazing her fingers along Sansa’s shoulders, as the fabric dropped at their feet. 

Sansa was left in a thin, dark purple shift, with single ribbons as the straps. “You would do that for me?” her voice quivered. She knotted her hands together, holding them close to her chest. Her eyes flitted in Margaery’s direction, trying to catch a glimpse of her in her periphery. Her stomach twisted, but somehow Sansa enjoyed it. 

All that could be heard was their soft breathing, and the birds chirping from out in the gardens. A breeze came through the open windows, sweeping the skirt of Margaery’s dress up, making the hem brush Sansa’s legs. The soon-to-be Queen wrapped her arm around the younger girl’s hips, and walked around to stand in front of her. “Only if you want me to.” Margaery unpinned the rose that held the front of her dress, slipping off the top half of her garment, leaving her chest bare. She reached behind her and pulled out the hair pieces that held in her braid. Gorgeous honey brown tresses cascaded over her skin, flowing like their own waterfall. 

Sansa could’ve sworn her heart stopped. “I think I would like that very much.” 

Those words were all it took for Margaery to take a step forward, desperately capturing Sansa’s lips in hers. Her arms wound themselves over her shoulders, fingers winding into the knots of red hair on the back of the girl’s head. She held back in her kiss, not wanting to overwhelm Sansa by being aggressive. Margaery knew what she wanted; it would just take time to get there. She released Sansa from their kiss, instead focusing her mouth along the edge of her jaw. Her hands slipped down to the straps of the shift. “May I?” 

A nod was all that Sansa could manage, as she was breathless. She dug her fingers into Margaery’s sides, gripping her as if she thought she would float away. Her whole body felt as if it was on pins, tingling more and more every time Margaery’s lips made contact with her skin. She leaned her head back, arching her shoulders as her lover pulled the ribbons away from her shoulders and dropped the thin dress. She pressed her body up against Margaery’s, reveling in the softness of her breasts. 

Margaery pushed her own skirt down and gripped Sansa’s hips in the same movement. She drew the girl’s lower half towards her, wishing that they could just melt into each other. She gave Sansa another hungry, feral kiss, before stopping. “Come,” she said lustfully. With linked hands, Margaery led Sansa towards the bed. She combed a piece of red hair behind her lover’s ear. “Lay down,” she commanded. 

Sansa did as she was told, laying back on the bed, letting the bedding envelope her. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch as Margaery, wistful as ever, climbed onto the bed in front of her and positioned herself between Sansa’s knees. Her hands were shaking, but she wouldn’t dream of telling the brunette to stop. “What happens now?” she asked, not sure if she even needed to say anything. 

Sweeping her hair over one shoulder, Margaery ran her hands over Sansa’s thighs. “Something you’ll thank me for.” With that, she pulled the girl’s legs around her, and kissed her inner thigh, just above her knee. She inched further up, continuing to rub Sansa’s legs. She made her way to the top of Sansa’s thigh, before switching to the other leg and repeating. When she finished, she dug her fingers into Sansa’s knees, and yanked her closer. The girl yelped. “Trust me,” her voice soothed. She pressed her hands into the redhead’s stomach, kissing right at her waistline. Margaery lowered herself, down, down, down… 

The Stark girl arched her back into Margaery’s motions. Her hands moved towards the girl’s brown hair, entangling her fingers within, gently pushing and pulling her head as she felt needed. She desperately tried to close her mouth, but she couldn’t stop gasping for air. She felt the need to move, so she swung her arms above her head, latching on to a bar that was on the bed frame. Her body worked in sync with Margaery’s mouth, as if it already knew what to do. 

Margaery worked her tongue over Sansa’s heat, her hands massaging the very peak of her inner thighs. She slid one hand up to where her mouth was already positioned, slipping two fingers into Sansa’s core. She heard the girl moan louder, and chuckled at the fact that it was her doing. Her other hand reaches up, and rolls one of Sansa’s hardened nipples between her fingers. She playfully bit Sansa’s clit, continuing to rhythmically thrust fingers in and out from the girl’s tightening muscles. The taste in her mouth was bittersweet, and she licked it up with desire. 

Sansa clamped a hand over the one Margaery had on her breast, forcing her to dig her nails deeper into the skin. Red scratches appeared on Sansa’s ivory skin, and she unintentionally revelled in the thought that Margaery put them there. She managed to open her eyes and look down at the face between her legs. She saw two piercing blue eyes already staring up at her, a smile full of sin and lust inside them. All Sansa could think was that Margaery looked like a lioness as it devoured its prey - a role she was more than willing to fill. She could feel the tightness in her stomach radiating down, and she let out a long moan as she felt herself crest over a peak of pleasure. 

Sounds of heavy breathing filled the room, but both women were utterly exhilarated. Margaery rose to her knees, pulling Sansa up with her. Their lips were just barely touching. She went in for a passionate kiss, forcing the girl’s lips apart and slipping her tongue inside. Her teeth grazed Sansa’s bottom lip. She could feel her own wetness beginning to drip. “Care to show me what you’ve learned?” 

She swallowed hard. Sansa didn’t want this to end, and she knew that Margaery wouldn’t judge her for being inexperienced. So, she let the adrenaline flow through her, fueling her confidence enough that she started rubbing Margaery’s clit. It was the brunette’s turn to moan, but Sansa cut it off with a hard kiss. She worked her fingers hard, pinching and squeezing the small piece of flesh. The reactions this caused was invigorating. She cocked her head and lowered her body, kissing down the space between Margaery’s breasts. She ran her tongue over their round shapes, eventually catching one nipple in her mouth. Her teeth grated against the bumps, and she played with it using her tongue. She rubbed the clit harder, and sped up the motions happening in her mouth. Releasing the left, Sansa latched on to the right, repeating what she had just been doing. She moaned slightly. 

Margaery loved the feeling of Sansa’s hands at her core, but she was desperate for more. Unable to wait, she gently pushed the redhead back onto the bed. She crawled over her body, working her way up so that she was straddling Sansa just below her shoulders. She raised her eyebrows, looking for permission to go higher. 

Sansa ran her hands up Margaery’s legs, and over her arse cheeks. She licked her lips in anticipation, smiling.

A swift repositioning of her knees, and Margaery was directly over Sansa’s face. She lowered herself slightly and grabbed the bar that Sansa previously had a hold of. She tossed her head back as she felt Sansa’s tongue make contact, swiping up and down her centre. 

She wasn’t sure if she was doing anything right. All Sansa knew was that every movement she made was impulsive and reactive. Her fingers playing with the hardened peaks of Margaery’s breasts, her tongue flicking the clit; she didn’t have to think about any of it. While one hand was above, the other was below, teasing Margaery at her entrance. She could feel that the roles were now reversed - it was Sansa’s turn to be the hunter, and Margaery was now the hunted. She could feel Margaery resisting as her hips wanted to buckle. Sansa enjoyed having this kind of power over someone. 

Margaery rolled her hips, pushing further and further into Sansa’s mouth. Every time the wolf girl got her fingers at the edge of her entrance, Margaery could feel herself being ready to give in. And she wanted to. “Go inside me,” she begged, all but ready to use her own fingers. There was no need, though, as Sansa quickly obliged by pressing three fingers in. She trembled, losing her grip for a split second and dropping onto Sansa’s face more than she intended. The girl underneath her squealed, but let it turn into a deep moan as she savored the taste in her mouth. Margaery closed her eyes in delight; the vibrations of Sansa’s voice went up through her, landing in her chest. She could feel a swell inside of her, one that no other man had been able to discover. She let go of the bed frame, reaching up to grab bunches of her hair and tug on them. She followed the beat of Sansa’s tongue, scratching her scalp and twisting around at every right moment. The extra dose of pain only increased her enjoyment. 

Sansa’s fingers curled inside of Margaery, pumping in and out at an ever increasing pace. Her mind was solely focused on pleasing the girl on top of her. There were no worries of someone walking in, or of a passerby hearing them. She saw Margaery pulling her own hair, and dug her nails into her nipples, hoping to give her a small amount of what she craved. She closed her eyes as she licked faster and faster, moving her fingers as quickly as she could. She was desperate to taste more of her new Queen. 

The brunette panted, no longer able to hold back her gratification. Her stomach was tighter than it ever had been, until suddenly, it wasn’t. She felt a release from within her and could hear Sansa enjoying the end result. She smiled, feeling exhausted, and removed herself from above the Stark girl. The two laid next to each other, hands together between them. “I can see I taught you well,” Margaery eventually breathed. She looked at Sansa gleefully. “Do you feel better now?” 

Sansa smiled sheepishly. “Much. Thank you.” She stroked the side of Margaery’s face, running her finger over her jawline. Her face dropped as she remembered both their impending marriages. “I wish this wasn’t something to hide.” Sansa sat up and hung her head. 

Margaery frowned, getting up to walk around to the other side of the bed, standing in front of Sansa. She placed two fingers under the girl’s chin and angled her face upwards. “You should never be ashamed of enjoying yourself. But yes,” she tucked some hair behind Sansa’s ear, “you can’t tell anyone.” She leaned down and kissed Sansa’s forehead. 

“Does it have to end?” Sansa asked hopefully. 

This made Margaery smile. “Not yet it doesn’t.” 


End file.
